Broken Song
by me malum
Summary: Every secret discovered brings new ideas into the open. AU post handcuffs, L/Light pre-slash.


Old habits die hard: this is song inspired, like most of my pieces are, by Pscyclon 9's 'Crwn Thy Frnicatr'. That's originally the piece I imagined being played at the start. It evolved, however.

Could be pre-slash, if squint-goggles are enabled. Actually, re-reading, goggles probably aren't required.

Set post handcuffs, pre 5th (?) November. My sense of timing is slightly loopy, but I hope that's taken as creative license.

It is also AU from that point. Don't hold it against me.

Any feedback is hugely appreciated. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer**- yeah, I wish.

**Edited** 6/6/12- cosmetics, er... just call it a complete overhaul? My writing style's changed like _woah_ since originally typing this.

* * *

The music was very faint; I had to strain my ears to hear it. I frowned. Who would be playing music at this time of night?

More importantly, just who _was_ playing the music? I couldn't remember any of the investigation team professing such a skill, and this player was skilled indeed. Aizawa doesn't sleep in the building and I know my father can't tell one end of a violin from the other; it wasn't either of them. Could it be Mogi or Matsuda? I cocked my head to one side, before resolutely deciding that no, it wasn't. Mogi was too straight-laced and Matsuda too happy. There was something twisted about the notes being played, something inherently warped, something that repelled listeners even as it caught their attention.

I was reminded of shattered glass, or nails on a blackboard. Some of the notes were double-stopped; I thought of hail on metal rooftops and a quill pen scratching on parchment.

It sounded painful. It sounded wrong. And it was quite possibly the most beautiful sound I'd heard in my life.

Even as I came to this conclusion, my mind shied from the possibility I'd ignored. It couldn't be him. In all the time we'd been chained together, he'd never shown any inclination for the violin, or music in general. No musician could pick up a lump of wood and horsehair only once in a blue moon and make the instrument sound that heart-stopping. It was impossible.

It was L. _Anything was possible_, my rational mind informed me sourly.

The melody was minor; sad, bitter and broken. The part of me that insisted I felt some residual friendship for the detective worried that he could put so much emotion into the piece.

And at the core of my personality, I-Kira cackled; it was what I'd wanted to hear all along. L was losing. I was winning.

_L was breaking_.

Just that thought, and I was out of bed, pulling a jumper over my pyjamas and sliding my feet into slippers.

Perhaps Kira didn't have as much control over me as I thought.

That was worrying in itself.

I opened my door quietly and the volume crescendoed. I blinked, surprised. The rooms had far better sound-proofing than I'd suspected.

It made all of us living at headquarters that little bit more isolated. I shivered in spite of the warmth in the corridor.

Following the sound to its source wasn't too difficult, and I wondered for only a moment why nobody else had been woken up. But L and I were the sole inhabitants of this floor; I'd been too lazy to move my belongings further than to the opposite end of the corridor when he'd finally removed the infernal silver cuff. I assumed L had remained in the same room where we'd stayed together.

I put a hand out to touch the doorframe, smirking as I remembered when I'd managed to manoeuvre L into walking into it. I'd seen a stunning bruise on his shoulder that night.

The next morning, he'd pulled me off-step as I got out of bed; I hit my shin on the edge of the frame. It took two weeks for the cut to heal over fully.

Nobody else had noticed the grazes. I thought Watari must have known, but he gave no indication either way.

Watari. Could he be the mystery musician? He was certainly mysterious enough about everything else.

I paused, considered. Weighed up every factor and outcome in my head, before shaking it.

I didn't think so. It didn't feel right, didn't sound right.

_Didn't sound..._

There was no noise coming from L's room. The melody led me past his door and three others like it. I'd never seen behind any of them. They were identical and nondescript; utterly unremarkable. The rooms could be bedrooms-

Or torture chambers.

Misa has never been able to describe the room she was held in, but from what I've heard her cry in her sleep, and the intensity of the glares I'd seen Rem give L (far worse than she'd ever given me), I am grateful he was at least kind enough to blindfold her. I certainly didn't love the girl, but my Kira-self was new enough to my memories that I hadn't yet lost all sense of human decency.

I _was_ working on it, however.

_Turn the corner and hear the volume increase..._

'5%, Yagami-kun,', '17%, Yagami-kun,', '63%, Yagami-kun!'

_Just like those infernal percentages..._

The door was closed to. The soundproofing wasn't working properly; it was probably the only reason I'd heard anything in the first place.

I could hear the beginnings of a backing track, heavy on drums and bass. It clashed with the violin, even as the strings shrieked louder, determined to drown out the rest.

Then the drums stopped. The bass and the violin were playing in time, but in fourths and sixths and it was ugly and separate. There was no intertwining of melodies. This song wasn't played for the pleasure of the audience; it was played for the player.

I didn't recognise it at all; I wondered where L had found it. Was it something from his home country? From his past?

_Is it something I can use against him?_ I-Kira wondered, considering it the more vital question.

The drums rejoined the track, speeding the tune up to twice the original pace. The last section before coda, I analysed absently. How long had he been playing for, anyway?

Long enough to catch my attention. Long enough for me to find him. Long enough for me to... what?

The backing track fell silent, but L carried on. The notes were barely making it off the bow, sounding muffled, as though he required exquisite precision to sound the high-pitches at all, and was struggling.

I've never heard L struggle with something. It was jarring.

He worked his way back down the scale, and I could imagine his fingers flying along the violin's neck. I almost smiled at the image.

My imagination wasn't good enough. I'd admitted that to myself when I realised I enjoyed watching the results of my machinations. Omniscient gods might be, but all-seeing was what I had to content myself with at the moment.

I opened the last door between us.

The room was unlike any other I'd seen in headquarters. It reminded me of a studio, until I kicked my higher brain functions into gear and concluded that it _was _a studio, a music room.

One that none of us on the investigation team had been told about. How many times, when L had been nowhere to be found, had he hidden here?

The walls were lined with mirrors- all except one, which was made of transparent glass. L was staring out over the Tokyo skyline, plagued with its high-rise buildings and towers.

The rain was pounding on the glass. It was the only beat to his melody, now.

With his back to me, I could only see his face in the window. I stared, entranced by the grace of his movements, by the habitual slouch that actually seemed to help here rather than hinder, by the music winding down quieter and quieter, ceasing with a soft sigh into an abrupt, angry pizzicato.

L had his eyes closed. He was swaying on the spot to the last strains as they echoed off the walls.

There was more emotion in his hands than I'd ever seen in his eyes. Those empty eyes, glassy like those belonging to Sayu's old dolls. As the phrase went, L was in trouble because I don't think anybody was home.

Maybe once, there had been somebody there. Perhaps a long time ago, before he'd solved his first case. Before he'd seen his first murder, taken on his first pseudonym.

His eyes stayed closed, and I could deduce why. Under the glaring lights of the studio, a single tear was highlighted as it trailed down his cheek.

It dripped and fell, landing on the floor with a plop unnoticeable with the rain pounding outside.

I gasped at the surreal picture of L showing such obvious emotion.

L's eyes flew open, but he didn't spin around like a normal person might have. He stared into the window and saw my reflection standing there. My surprise was written in my posture, my face; I had no time to mask it. His eyes widened impossibly; he was more surprised than I was. He must have been.

Because as I stepped forwards, still staring at his reflection on the rain-streaked glass, he unexpectedly jumped- and dropped his violin.

* * *

Watari didn't put cameras in his studio; he said the mirrors made the glare of the lenses intolerable on his old eyes. L had never told the man that was why every studio he'd built for himself included at least three reflective surfaces.

Not that Watari didn't have alternative means of bugging the room. L systematically hacked and looped every one of them before setting his laptop to one side. It was for the old man's own good; his mentor had never liked the sound of L's violin.

Sometimes, L was uncertain of his own feelings on the matter. But only until he would tell himself to stop feeling and start thinking, and realise it was a truly horrible sound. So it was a rare occasion indeed that he ever took the instrument out of its case.

It was _this_ case, L decided. He'd worked it out, he'd caught his criminals and even had them imprisoned, within his grasp...

And he'd lost it. It had slipped through his fingers more easily than the notes slipped from his bow. He coaxed each one individually from the strings, even as he could only devote a fraction of a second to each pitch before moving on to the next.

Not so was the case. Every angle was analysed mercilessly by himself while parallel scenarios were played out by Light by his side. It was disappointing when they came to the same conclusion: that they were undeniably wrong, or misinformed, or both.

It was fear-inspiring when their conclusions were different; when Light found the trends incriminating the Yotsuba Corporation, which L, looking over the very same files less than a week before, had missed completely. Hindsight was twenty-twenty; with it, the pattern was obvious. But L couldn't believe (didn't _want_ to believe) he hadn't put it together himself.

This case was getting to him. Had already got to him and was infecting his sanctuary, his mind. His solace.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. His music had always been his solace, even when he'd still been whole so he couldn't truly appreciate it. His songs had been infected and twisted long before he'd made his first friendship with a killer. With Kira.

With a man who had so much potential, it was breath-taking. Light Yagami was intelligent, charming and beautiful.

And _Light_ was whole. He hadn't lost himself piece by piece to the darker side of the world until he couldn't tell beauty from broken chords. Kira, on the other hand...

L figured he'd never learnt how to play the violin like a true musician should. When he was younger, more whole, he'd known he sounded terrible. Then, as the cases came and went, as the sleepless nights accumulated- for a very brief amount of time, he thought he'd gotten better.

Beyond had been quick to inform him, in true Whammy style, that he remained as skilled as he'd ever been. Even so, his fellow orphan had always appeared when he played, always dropped in, and seemed to enjoy listening to him.

L had been quick to infer that he was sickening in spirit, rather than improving in skill. As he shattered and fell, he stopped caring so much. He stopped feeling, and for the most part, stopped playing.

But he always kept the instrument with him. It was old, scratched and battered, and held too much of himself to leave it behind.

It was all Kira would need to defeat him. No name, no picture, just a violin and a broken song.

Then Light, then _Kira_ would see that L was already lost. He was following in the younger man's shadow, no longer leading the investigation team in anything but name. Light was the one with the ideas, with the theories.

With the glint in his eye. The shadow that told anyone who cared to look for it, _I'm winning. I've won, only the world has yet to realise._

L realised days after catching Higuchi that he couldn't resolve this case. Something had to change, to give.

He hadn't suspected it would be his emotions until he'd caught sight of the violin tucked up in the back of his wardrobe.

L blinked furiously and turned to face the window. The view was dull, urban. Even in the rain there was no beauty in this cityscape. Even in his mind there was no beauty in his song.

He closed his eyes against the truth and the view. He focused instead on the strings beneath his fingers and the scent of resin.

L repositioned the violin on his shoulder from where it had sagged slightly during his introspection. On some level, he heard the backing drums pause and played louder to compensate.

As he plucked against the bass line, he wondered. There was no evidence to prove he was right. But there was a zero possibility that he was wrong.

Justice would give Kira and his accomplice the death penalty if it could.

L had in his possession a tool that could circumvent the months of tension and waiting for a trial. He had a Death Note, complete with instructions.

Could he use it on Light Yagami and Misa Amane, to save lives?

Lives of criminals. What exactly was he hoping to save?

L could care less for their lives. He cared little more for Misa Amane.

Could he use the Death Note to save Light Yagami?

L felt the tears build up behind his eyelids, and screwed them shut tighter. He refused to cry for this. It made him angry at himself that of all the deserving people he'd met and worked with in his lifetime, it was only _Kira_ who'd ever managed to provoke such a response.

Only _Light_... that he'd ever called friend.

What did that say about L himself? With a final, angry pluck at a random note, he stopped playing and just listened to the echoes.

He felt a wetness on his cheek and knew that at least one tear had escaped. He bowed his head-

And heard the sharp intake of breath behind him.

Turning around wasted valuable time when there was a window in front of him. L opened his eyes, praying that more tears wouldn't fall, and that it wouldn't be Light in the doorway.

His prayers were wasted on both counts.

Light's hair was sticking up, he was leaning tiredly on one arm propped up on the doorframe and his jumper was rumpled.

His body was tense, his eyes screamed of guilt (but not the guilt of a murderer, never that) and his hand was splayed with the fingers widespread. Light was surprised by something.

He had surprised Light Yagami.

L felt his own eyes widen. Felt the muscles in his fingers loosen.

He felt the neck of his violin slip through his fingers, just like his self control.

The cracking wood sounded very loud in the silence.

* * *

L didn't say anything. I stood there, one foot forwards but frozen, and still he wouldn't say anything. As I watched, more tears spread over his cheeks.

What was he thinking of? What existed in the world that could make L _cry_?

"Light-kun," L murmured. He broke their eye contact, glancing down at the remains of his violin. "Oh," he remarked softly, as though he'd just realised the instrument was broken.

_Play with him_, I-Kira was saying. _He's right there, with the cracks wide open. Play with him!_

"Ryuzaki?" I said gently. He winced. "What-"

"Light-kun is extremely skilled at sneaking up on my person," L mumbled. "I calculate 42%."

The anger flashed, and I felt my eyes harden. _Let's play, Kira_, I decided.

"L-san is extremely skilled with his violin," I countered. I deliberately cast my eyes to the floor. Amended my statement. "Was."

I just wanted him to turn around. I wanted to see him alive, to see him cry with my own eyes, rather than the reflection.

His shoulders flinched like I'd struck him a physical blow. "It wasn't played for anyone else to hear, Light-kun." His words were heavy.

"If you hadn't wanted an audience, you should have closed the door."

I saw L's fist clench. "I was unaware that a lock was the only guarantee of privacy between us, Light-kun." Suddenly, he moved, bending down and gathering the pieces of wood in his hands.

I-Kira silently raged. I soothed him as best I could. It had been me chained to the detective, after all.

I mourned the loss of his reflection, overlain with rivulets from the rainwater that looked like hairline fractures.

I was abruptly aware that now it was my reflection overlain with rivulets, showing the scars of my actions. I looked away hurriedly, bending down to help him.

"Light-kun's help is not necessary," L bit out. I looked at the detective, thinking why? Why are you still crying?

The whole time, tears had been falling down his cheeks, and he had given no sign he knew they existed. I hadn't realised L was that good at lying to himself, or to me.

He picked up the last piece, a tiny sliver of wood that shone with varnish. "I'm sorry about your violin."

The hand froze. I froze. What had I just said?

I didn't apologize to L. I didn't apologize, period. It implied I was wrong. Had I really just said 'I'm sorry'?

L inclined his head gracefully, hand moving smoothly again. "Do not apologize, Light-kun. It is probably for the best."

And here I thought he'd surprised me enough for one night. "But Ryuzaki- your playing-" L cut me off, voice harsher than I'd ever heard it.

"My playing is an earsore. I never learnt how to do it properly, and wouldn't have done so tonight had I thought someone would hear it."

"I would have heard more of it," I muttered. I don't know if I wanted him to hear me or not. My mind was in confusion, with voices and screaming in the background that sounded like it came from an old, broken record.

L was glaring at me. "Never say that." He spoke quietly, tonelessly.

I glared right back at him. "Why not?" I challenged. "Do only normal people want to hear things they consider beautiful?"

L tilted his head, questioning my sincerity. "Normal people don't consider my music beautiful, _Kira._" The name was pointedly emphasised, him trying to deflect the subject.

I snapped, "Don't call me that!" in reflex before refusing him success in his transparent attempt. "I was only trying to help you!"

His tears were still falling, faster now- but he didn't squint, or brush them away, or give any sign he was aware of them. "Leave instead; I don't want you here." He sounded like a child. In more ways than one, he _was _a child.

"No, L." I regarded him from the small distance between us. "You don't _want_ me here, but- do you _need _me here?"

I was just in time to catch him when he fell to his knees. The pieces of broken violin scattered between us. His breathing hitched, my shoulder slowly dampened, and I realised he was now crying in earnest. His emotion had broken free of the restrictions forced upon it.

I didn't pat his back, or whisper in his ear. I held him with one arm around his shoulders, using the other one for balance.

I looked down at the broken man in front of me.

Broken. Shattered. Beaten.

_I've won_, I-Kira whispered in glee.

Broken.

_Won._

Shattered.

_Won._

Beaten.

_Won._

_**No!**_

I fell back suddenly, sitting on the floor properly. L came back with me, and I wrapped my other arm around him. He curled closer; I was willing to bet it was instinctive rather than deliberate.

It took me longer than it should have to realise that as the cries grew softer, he was muttering something, repeating it over and over into my shoulder. I bent my head closer to catch it.

"Broken, broken, why broken? Why? Broken, why broken, why, broken, why?"

It was a relief when he fell unconscious.

* * *

What did someone say when they were found in a compromising position? It probably wasn't what immediately sprang into the minds of normal people with such a phrase, but L felt it was nonetheless most appropriate to his situation.

Because he was compromised. Had been since he'd latched on to Light's illusion of friendship.

Their name, he realised. It was a neutral place to start conversation, wasn't it?

"Light-kun," he said softly, holding the teen's eyes in the window. Because it _was_ Light staring back at him, eyes open and honest. Kira couldn't be seen.

He tracked the raindrops as they trailed down Light's face, only to have his attention drawn to the shattered remains of his violin. "Oh."

He should feel something for that, surely? His violin was broken.

This case had infected his solace after all, broken it down completely.

"Ryuzaki?" His voice was gentle and human and it was all L could do to remember that Light was Kira in times when he sounded so whole. It made him want to save the young man, and L knew he shouldn't. He couldn't want to save Kira.

But somehow, he did. He winced. Were those tears still falling down his cheeks?

L had never been good in emotional contexts. His usual reaction to such situations was to attack first and divert attention. "Light-kun is extremely skilled at sneaking up on my person. I calculate 42%." His mind had already calculated how best to divert Light. He prepared himself for the inevitable explosion.

"L-san is extremely skilled with his violin," was not the reply he'd been expecting to hear. By implication, Light liked his violin. Light couldn't like his violin. His violin was for the broken and Light Yagami had to be whole, had to find it terrible and ugly-

And _Kira_, surely as broken as L himself was, would find that beautiful. His shoulders shook as he repressed the urge to break down.

Some hysterical part of his mind wondered if any of this was admissible in a court of law.

If only Light hadn't heard, hadn't let L find out so easily- "It wasn't played for anyone else to hear, Light-kun,"- because if Light hadn't heard it, L could still have believed him whole. Still hoped, even if he knew it to be in vain, that _Light_ and _Kira_ weren't one and the same.

"If you hadn't wanted an audience, you should have closed the door." L took some satisfaction in that he wasn't the only one unravelling. Kira's underlying frustration was plain as day.

L was grateful to the murderer; it gave him something to fight. "I wasn't aware a lock was the only guarantee of privacy between us, Light-kun." L bent down to gather up the pieces, wanting but knowing he couldn't afford to see Light's face.

It came as a surprise when Light bent down to help him. "Light-kun's help is not necessary." He absently picked up the smallest piece, running his fingers over the varnished surface.

"I'm sorry about your violin."

L froze, still holding his sliver. He didn't want to cry any more than he already was. Why did Light pick this night to be human, and broken? Was Kira truly that brilliant, playing him the whole time and L couldn't tell them apart any longer?

"Do not apologize, Light-kun. It is probably for the best." If he hadn't played tonight, if Light hadn't heard him, if Kira hadn't existed-

_If wishes were fishes_, Watari had once told him.

"But Ryuzaki- your playing-" He sounded genuinely shocked, genuinely upset. L wanted to kick him and beat some sense into him. He settled for talking over the teen instead.

"My playing is an earsore. I never learnt how to do it properly, and wouldn't have done so tonight had I thought someone would hear it." Only the broken could hear beauty in shattered chords. The normal would be repelled. The brilliant would be horrified. _Why, Light?_

Only Beyond had ever liked his playing, until now.

Only Beyond... and Light... _Kira_...

He nearly missed Light's next comment. "I would have heard more of it."

It was enough to make him re-establish their eye-contact. Even as he glared, his words were empty of the tone his look deserved. "Never say that." _Never ask to be broken more than you already are_.

Light raised a delicate eyebrow. "Why not? Do only normal people want to hear things they consider beautiful?"

L couldn't detect whether he was talking to Light or Kira- it seemed to change with every sentence. Regardless, he didn't think laughing at that statement was a good idea because Light... Light Yagami didn't even realise he was broken.

"Normal people don't consider my music beautiful, _Kira_." He added the name at the last minute, spiky and forced. Maybe Light could yet realise, and fix himself (maybe he would leave, and L could attempt some semblance of fixing _himself_). He glanced down at the wooden pieces in his hands, wondering if they'd be easier or harder to put back together.

(The violin was broken beyond repair. L quickly dissolved the mental calculations he'd begun.)

"Don't call me that!" A pause, L might have hoped he'd got his way after all, until- "I was only trying to help you!"

Why was Light being so human? Why, when L needed him to be perfect, was he proving so broken?

L huffed, still trying to needle the other man. "Leave instead; I don't want you here."

His collar was damp with tears, by the feel of it. He was utterly compromised in this moment, and he hated Light Yagami for it far more than he'd ever hated Kira.

"No, L." Light sounded like he'd just had an epiphany. But it wasn't the one L wanted him to have. "You _don't _want me here." Each word was measured, weighted. "But do you _need _me here?"

Damn Light for his brilliance, damn him for his humanity, damn him for everything.

Damn Kira for bringing them together. Damn Kira for making him care. Damn Kira...

Damn Kira for making Light _broken._

Damn _Light_ for letting him.

L bowed his head, fell forwards, and just let himself feel the double-edged sword of relief to let the feeling out and utter horror that it was Light's arm catching him. _No!_ He wanted to scream. _Not you, anyone but you..._

He cried instead.

All the while, his mind wouldn't stop asking the question. _Why had he broken? Why was Light broken? Why?_

* * *

Three days later, the entire team was gathered in front of the monitors. Kira had only struck the once, killing sixteen in one night. Nobody could figure out why he hadn't continued.

I knew why, of course. Misa had believed me when I said it was temporary. That I'd give the Death Note back to her once suspicion had died down again.

For once, Rem had been only too glad to help me.

_I settled L in our old room and returned to the music room deep in thought. I wanted to wait for the sunrise, watch it decide for me what I was going to do._

_I had planned for L to die. I had planned it perfectly, so that in his final moments, he would know he was right and die happier for it._

_Nobody would say their god wasn't merciful._

_But how could I kill someone I'd already beaten?_

That just makes it easier_, I-Kira insisted. But the murderer sounded unsure in my head. He didn't wholly believe what he was telling me either. _

_It made sense. Kira played his games for the thrill of the chase. Nobody had thrilled him, thrilled me, more than L. Killing him would have been our finest achievement, until he'd laid over and made it so easy for us._

_What could I do to change the pieces already in place?_

_Misa. She was a problem. She'd started killing again yesterday. She needed to be fixed. And with Misa-_

"_Rem?" I asked the empty room, knowing she would hear me. I didn't have to wait for long._

"_Yagami-kun?" The shinigami faded through the far wall and stared levelly at a spot past my shoulder._

"_Would you like me out of Misa's life for good?" It was a stupid question, one I already knew the answer to._

_Rem shifted her cat-like eye to mine. "Yagami-kun knows this answer already, I believe," she stated. Neither of us were idiots, and her expression showed her resentment that I was drawing out this conversation. In response, I cut seven minutes of logic short and summed up my request in three words._

"_Then help me."_

_The shinigami looked at me suspiciously. "What is Yagami-kun planning? If you leave things be, everything you've ever wanted will fall into place within a matter of days." _

_I said nothing, waiting for her to confirm a hypothesis. This would be the final nail in the coffin- mine or L's was the point I wanted clarified._

_Rem studied me carefully. She glanced up; she was checking my remaining lifespan. Her eye blinked, and my suspicion was confirmed, that something had changed. In that moment, she realised- and I accepted- the same truth. _

_I felt the self-deprecating smile take a hold of me as she laughed, for the first time that I'd seen._

_She sounded every bit as bone-chilling as Ryuk._

"_Everything you've ever wanted does not include Misa Amane, Yagami-kun?" _

_It was her turn to confirm her thoughts; we had a habit of baiting each other with stupid questions to do so. I answered with as much grace as I could muster._

"_Everything I've ever wanted isn't such a certainty anymore," I said. "But I _am_ certain that you've not been entirely truthful with Misa."_

_Her eye regarded me neutrally. I was staking my entire plan on this._

"_The first time she relinquished her Death Note, she kept her memories of me. This makes no logical sense. She knew me first as Kira, second as Light Yagami. The first should negate the second because it was intrinsic to her memories of the Death Note." I took a deep breath, following through with the thoughts that had consistently eaten at me since _my_ memory returned. "But she asked you specifically, didn't she Rem?"_

_I'd never tried to analyse the body language of a skeleton before. It was far more of a challenge than a human, but this time, just this once, the shinigami was as a book. _

"_You've always done whatever makes Misa happy. She asked you for her memories of me, and you gave them to her. You bent the rules for her; you always have. So-"_

"_You plan to have Misa relinquish the Death Note again. But this time, you won't give it back."_

"_I plan to have Misa remember that her loud, public support of Kira's actions made her a suspect in L's eyes. She was detained, and released when criminals continued to die during her imprisonment. Since then, she has been struggling for work, going from manager to manager, finally landing a job with Yotsuba. Higuchi being arrested cleared her name completely, and her life is now more of what it was before any of this ever started. She would remember nothing about the Death Note. She would clearly remember nobody she met _through_ the Death Note."_

"Clearly_ remember?" Rem demanded clarification._

"_I've been too much a part of her life for her to forget me completely. She would remember me as the jerk she just broke up with because he never treated her the way she deserved to be treated."_

_It was near enough to the truth to appeal to Rem's sense of irony, and my own. I wasn't regretful over the way I'd treated Misa, because knowing and feeling were two separate things._

_Rem was silent for a long time. I momentarily feared my gamble hadn't paid off, until she spoke again. "This is directly contrary to what I know Misa Amane's wishes to be."_

"_Misa won't remember making that wish. She won't be unhappy for it." I paused, wondering if my other point would help or hinder my case. "You know that my current plan will kill you. You can do nothing for Misa if you are dead."_

"_Don't try to make it sound like you are doing this for me, Yagami-kun. You care less for _me_ than I do for _you_."_

_It was probably true. Rem was indifferent to humans as a whole. I actively hated her._

"_But your logic is sound. I, however, have one requirement of you when this occurs. Misa's Death Note is burnt. It no longer exists. You will remember her only in the manner that she remembers you."_

_I smirked. "We're more alike than either of us would wish, Rem. You'll need to trade back your Notes with Ryuk. Then, by burning the Death Note, I'll forget about _you_."_

"_We will never be forced to meet again. I will make sure of it." She sounded sincere, willing even. I was beginning to suspect no little hatred on her part, too. It was a strange change from general apathy. "I hope he is worth it, Yagami-kun," she ended with, glancing once more over my head._

_I knew she was referring to my presumably shortened lifespan. I also recognised a show of gratitude from one too-proud being to another. _

_I smiled bitterly this time. "I _am _certain that what would be without him, isn't." _

_She nodded once, and faded back into the wall she arrived through._

For all intents and purposes, Kira was dead. But the investigation team had been unfortunately too distracted by both Misa's whirlwind exit and the disappearance of Rem from headquarters to devote much thinking time to it.

L was especially frantic. I wondered if he was waiting for his heart to stop, with one eye on me, and another on the Death Note lying innocently on the table.

Rem was truly the smarter of the shinigami I'd met. Nobody had noticed the Note missing for a few hours. It hadn't even shown up on the cameras. How she managed that, I'd love to know.

Now _I_ waited for a convenient chance, to get out to the woods and burn Misa's Death Note. The pages she'd torn out were already ashes.

"_Misa?" I called her name softly, trying not to draw too much attention to us._

_Misa turned, and gasped. "Light!" She cried happily. "I didn't expect to see you until-" She caught herself in time. I didn't want to hear her say, 'until Ryuzaki is dead.'_

_I smiled at her. "No, Misa. This time, I'm here just for you." It was the least I could do for the girl._

You just like the power you hold over her. You're giving up power over the rest of the world, after all._ Kira's voice was becoming weaker every hour, sounding like a broken record playing over and again._

_She clasped her hands to her chest. "Really? Light means it?" She looked worried, suddenly. "I'm doing it right, aren't I? I'm doing what you want me to?"_

_I nodded reassuringly. How could I start this conversation? "You have a break now, right Misa? Do you want to go for a walk through the park?" It wasn't too far from her shoot._

"_Just let me tell manager-san!" She gushed, and ran to exchange words with a man who looked barely older than she was. They shared a smile, and then Misa ran back over to me. "Misa is yours for half an hour, Light!"_

_I offered her my arm. She took it gladly, and steered us through the gate. At the first secluded bench we came to, I sat her down and made her face me._

"_Misa? You've done so much for me, and done it brilliantly. I truly believe that in time, I could fall in love with you." Her eyes were shining, unblinking. "But you've simply done _too_ well. Ryuzaki-san is already suspicious of you. The only way to alleviate that suspicion is for you to relinquish the Death Note again, under the same terms as last time."_

_Her lower lip was trembling. "But- Light said yesterday-"_

_I took one of her hands in mine. "I didn't expect things to move so quickly. It was my mistake, Misa, I'm so sorry."_

_Suddenly, she brightened. "No, it's alright. Light is proving that he's as human as Misa. That they can fit together. And with the same terms, I'll remember you still." Her eyes sought out mine. "That's so, isn't it Light?"_

_I nodded. She _would_ remember me, in a way._

"_Then Misa-Misa is happy!" She leant into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I settled my own over her shoulders. _

"_I'll need the pages you tore out from your note," I said into her hair. "I don't want you accidentally touching one of them and being put back in danger."_

"_Light cares for Misa! Okay, Misa keeps them with her at all times in her handbag." She rooted around in her bag for a few minutes, before handing me three sheets of paper. Sixteen entries had been made; no more. I sighed inwardly in relief._

"_Thank you, Misa. You have no idea how much you're helping me." I pressed a kiss to her hair._

"_Then- all that's left is for Misa to say it?" She asked, looking up at me._

"_Yes, Misa. That's all you have to do now." Rem appeared behind Misa's back, and I knew the trade with Ryuk had been made. _

_She wrinkled her nose. "Then... Misa-Misa forfeits ownership of her Death Note," she said slowly. I grabbed her shoulders as Rem pulled her backwards, grasping her head between two clawed hands._

"_What are you doing?" I hissed in an undertone._

"_Ensuring that Misa Amane remembers everything as is best for her. As we agreed," the shinigami said._

_Seconds later, it was over. Misa's eyelashes fluttered. I wondered what kind of reception I'd get, with her new memories._

_My head snapped to the side, jarring my neck. I raised a hand to my cheek and looked at her in disbelief. Misa had- slapped me?_

"_Light-kun never treats Misa-chan the way she deserves to be treated! Misa-chan can do far better, Misa _will _do better!" She shouted loudly enough for the nearest couple, seated some distance away on another bench, to hear her. They gazed sympathetically at the girl._

_Some part of me sympathised with them; Misa was entirely pitiable. "Misa-chan, I'm sorry." I apologised for the third time in twenty four hours; it was a relief that this time, it was an act. _

_She sniffed at me. "Sometimes, Light-kun, sorry isn't enough." She stood and stalked away without a backwards glance. _

_I was left with Rem and a park bench. The shinigami stared at me as I calmly produced a lighter from my pocket and burnt the pages Misa had given me to ashes._

"_And the Note?" She finally asked. Five minutes had passed in silence, impatient on her part and stubborn on mine. _

"_When the suspicion has died down, and I have a chance to get to it," I replied shortly. "Don't worry Rem, I have as little desire to remember you as you did to help me."_

_She looked surprised, before tilting back her head in understanding. _

I knew she would realise. I suspect that Rem is the smartest shinigami in any world she travels to.

And so two days after my first long-term girlfriend broke up with me (I'd been the subject of much ribbing from my father's colleagues that afternoon) I was laying the final clue in place that I would work out what I'd done even after forgetting it. It was regrettable, but Rem was a part of the story that I couldn't afford to completely discard.

"What is Light-kun doing?" A voice behind me asked. Not just any voice. _His_ voice. I spun so we could talk face-to-face.

We hadn't been alone together since that night. When two genii work to avoid each other, they don't come into close contact. Having L anticipate my actions had been a blessing, in this case.

I answered him honestly. The time for lies was long past. "I'm planning."

L cocked his head as though listening for something. I couldn't tell what. "But the bells aren't ringing," he said.

I blinked. "Ryuzaki, that is possibly the least sensical thing you've ever said to me."

I might have seen the shadow of a smile before he spoke again. "All this past week, have you not heard the bells, Light-kun?"

I tried to bring some sense into his talk. "Perhaps it was a nearby church? A wedding?"

"Or a funeral, I thought. But no longer." He locked his gaze to mine. "So if it is not my impending death, what are you planning, Light-kun?"

I very nearly dropped my shoulder bag. I laughed weakly, to postpone answering.

L had been the one crying in my arms three nights ago. How was he so calm now?

_You had the advantage, and you gave it up_, Kira moaned. _Now the advantage is his_.

I didn't want to start lying again. "Would you ask me in four days' time?"

L regarded me objectively. "I believe Light-kun wishes to delay answering my question. But I also believe," he continued, raising his voice when I would have objected, "that he does so because of personal concerns, rather than concerns concerning other people."

I sagged in relief. "Thank you, Ryuzaki," I said.

The detective's face was completely blank. "You are welcome, Light-kun," he replied, and left the room.

Fifteen minutes, and I followed his footsteps out. I had a deal to keep with a shinigami, after all.

* * *

It had been a week since L had woken up in the bed he once shared with Light, with dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

It had been one of the strangest weeks of his life. Coming from the world's top three living detectives, that meant a lot.

L had spent the first three days in a haze of barely-contained fear and worrying. Everything he'd done in the past few months had seemed to be falling around his ears. He'd heard the bells ringing out whenever the silence became too quiet.

And Light had been conspicuously absent from his presence, which didn't ease his worry.

Although L had used much of his considerable brain power devising ways to hide from the young man, he knew that if anyone could have found him, it would have been Light. So Light _hadn't_ wanted to find him. Light had been avoiding him, in turn.

He'd given Kira everything the serial killer needed. Why was he still alive?

_Because _Light_ wanted him that way_, the voice of hope would whisper to him.

On the third afternoon, he came across Light in one of the reading rooms, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. For a moment, he thought his heart had stopped beating. Then he'd seen Light put the pen down, drag his hand through his hair and slide the paper into his bag.

L had spoken up then.

The ensuing conversation had been strange. It had only taken moments for L to realise the bells had stopped. It had taken only seconds more to notice that Kira- that _Light-_ wasn't lying to him.

Hope had suddenly become much louder.

Could he place his trust in Kira? Could he put his trust in a murderer?

No, L had thought. He never could.

But Light Yagami was something else altogether. Some_one _else altogether.

At least- he _hoped_.

* * *

Not for the first time in the last four days, I wondered if this was really a good idea. I knew exactly how it would end: with me in chains, and awaiting the death penalty. I'd gathered that little else would have made a shinigami who apparently hated me so eager to then help me.

I'd looked in on Misa, once. She hadn't seen me. I'd left when her embrace with her manager became more intimate than was strictly acceptable in public.

There had been a constant whine in my head, like somebody talking just out of earshot. Like a bow sliding over broken strings. It reminded me of L's song, reminded me why I was doing this.

I knocked on the studio door. It was closed, and I almost grinned when I thought of what it so obviously meant.

L opened it almost immediately. He held the door open and locked it behind me.

"I thought we might desire privacy for this conversation, Light-kun," he said. I nodded, voice caught in my throat. "I have hacked Watari's sensors again, and he will assume we are enjoying my music again."

My breath caught, too. L was trusting me, even if it was just a little.

I sat down where I stood. L mirrored me, crouching five feet away.

I briefly looked to the sky for guidance. L followed my gaze, and said softly, "There's nobody listening to us, Light-kun. Nobody to guide us."

I screwed my eyes shut. "But then, where will I start?" I asked, and I hated how small and lost my voice sounded.

I heard his clothes rustle, but still jumped when I felt his hands on my shoulders. I looked up into his face, and repeated my question.

L smiled sadly. "Start with your music, Light-kun." The smile reached his eyes, and I knew. "When did Kira break you?"

I blinked, started, and bit my lip.

It didn't scare me that he'd referred to Kira and myself as different people. I knew that he, at least, knew we were one and the same, really.

It didn't scare me that I knew exactly what he meant by his question. _When did I become Kira? When did I stop caring?_

What scared me, what I was afraid of, was the inevitable question he'd ask me when I'd finished my story.

_What was it that made me start caring again?_

* * *

L had removed his hands as soon as Light started talking. It was something the teen had to do on his own.

He didn't move as Light told him everything, from his first murder to his manipulating Misa into forfeiting her Note.

He listened intently as Light outlined what he thought he'd done in the past week, from the clues he'd left for himself. Absently, L found himself nodding once or twice.

"So?" Light said, story finished. "You've won, Ryuzaki. I am entirely at your mercy. What will you do?" One hand was playing with his left wrist, where the chain had once been.

"You expect me to arrest you." L stated.

"I expect you to follow your justice," Light said bitterly.

"And yet, still you told me," L said. His voice was quiet.

"Your justice was once mine, too," Light replied, equally quiet.

"Light-kun-" L started to say, and paused. "Light-kun has given me no evidence I didn't already have that convicts him as Kira."

Light's face was a picture of shocked anger. "Have you not been listening to anything I've said, Ryuzaki? I've given you a confession!"

"Witnesses are always subjective," L said. "L relies on objective evidence to secure his cases."

"But-" Light dug into his bag, and drew out the Death Note. "I have the Note. I have given you a handwriting match with the case records."

"Easily forged." L dismissed the sheets of paper.

"Damn it, L! Why won't you arrest me? You _know _I'm Kira!"

"Have you realised _why_ you started caring again, Light-kun?" L's eyes were knowing, and a faint blush crept along Light's cheekbones. "I cannot use _my_ judgement to convict you as I would have in the past. Like I said, L must rely on objective evidence." The silence stretched between them.

"But then- what will you do?" Light asked eventually.

L pretended to consider the question, and knew Light saw straight through him. "Official guidelines call a case 'cold' after three months have passed with no new information coming to light." He said. He started to smile. "We will assume Kira died with Higuchi. Nobody in the force will care, so long as Kira doesn't resurface in a year's time."

"And the team? Watari? What will you tell them?"

"Whatever I need to."

"Why, Ryuzaki? Tell me _why_," Light whispered.

L brought his hand to Light's cheek and stroked the young man's face. "Would telling you out loud make any difference at all?"

Light slowly, _so _slowly, brought his own hand up to cover L's, and both had their answer.

* * *

I smiled and thanked the woman working on the till. She handed me the bag and wished me a nice day.

I didn't know how L would react to my gift. It made it all the more thrilling to buy it for him.

It would only be the two of us in the building. With the Kira case officially 'cold', L had managed to get the members of the investigation team their old jobs back.

He said it was the least he could do for their loyalty. I said it had been planned all along.

I got through the security devices without incident, knowing L was probably tracking my progress through the building and helping me, deactivating half of them as I went.

When I got to the monitor room, he was facing the computer screens.

"Light-kun," he greeted me.

"L." I walked over to his chair and hugged him from behind. "I have something I'd like to show you."

L twisted his head around to look at me. "Something... for me?" he clarified. I nodded, smiling.

He held out a hand, and I took it, drawing him up from his seat. I led him through the building until we were standing outside his studio.

"But Light-kun does not have the key to this door, and cannot know if L has it on his person," the detective objected.

"I changed the lock," I explained, taking two silver keys from my pocket. I handed one to him, after comparing them to prove they were identical.

"Now close your eyes," I told him.

L gave me the look that said he was not amused. I gave him one right back that said, _just do it and shut up_. Rolling his eyes, he did so.

Then I unlocked the door and pushed him through. "Keep them closed," I warned him, when I knew he'd try to peek. He growled low in his throat.

I already had the stand set up. The music was open to the appropriate page. It was only the final touch, the thing I'd bought today from the music shop, which I had to sort out.

I undid the clasps on the case and placed the instrument in his hand.

L gasped and his eyes flew open. "Light-kun, this is-" I held a finger to his lips to silence him. He fell quiet, but his eyes were eloquent enough for his vocal chords.

I gestured to the music book behind me. "This is a fool-proof and idiot-proof guide to learning the violin from scratch," I explained. "It shouldn't be too difficult for you, should it?" I'd even managed to find the English version for him.

L stared at the violin, at the music, and finally at me. I waited patiently, knowing he'd get it eventually.

His face shifted into a smile. I exhaled in relief, that he liked it, that he understood it, that he accepted it. My face broke into a smile in return.

Or perhaps not. We both knew now that 'broke' was entirely the wrong word to describe either one of us with.


End file.
